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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252115">The End of All Things</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobalamincosel/pseuds/cobalamincosel'>cobalamincosel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Break Up, Complicated Relationships, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Sad Breakup Sex, no infidelity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:34:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24252115</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobalamincosel/pseuds/cobalamincosel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny doesn’t remember what Ten’s perfume smells like anymore. He’s just— gone.</p><p>Gone. </p><p>Johnny hadn’t factored in the possibility of them ever falling out of love with each other. It had always <i>been</i> JohnnyandTen. Joined at the hip. Soulmates, inseparable, a package deal. </p><p> <i>“Hey Johnny, how’s Ten?”</i></p><p> Always the two of them. </p><p>They don’t warn you about the possibility of an end.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Implied Kun/Sicheng</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>250</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The End of All Things</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started out, as usual, on Twitter, because I'd seen the photos of Ten on the bed and tweeted <a href="https://twitter.com/johnnyseo_paws/status/1244604836378587139">this</a>.</p><p>The title is from Panic! At the Disco's song of the <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/78tro1rpoxmqjbjiRRRzoH?si=OLwREYfnTUKEWkEEyQZhtg">same name</a>. Please listen to it when you read the ending that starts at "The last time Johnny...". </p><p>I'm sorry if this is sad. I tried to tell a story that felt real, and is based on an amalgamation of my own past breakups, as well as those of my friends. This isn't so much a love story, as it is about the way love can fade, change, grow apart instead of together. </p><p>This was not betaed, but as always, thank you to Ain and Any, who cheered me on as I wrote this.</p><p>I hope you like this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Johnny doesn’t remember what Ten’s perfume smells like anymore. He’s just— gone.</p><p>
  <em> Gone.  </em>
</p><p>Johnny hadn’t factored in the possibility of them ever falling out of love with each other. It had always <em> been </em> JohnnyandTen. Joined at the hip. Soulmates, inseparable, a package deal. </p><p>“Hey Johnny, how’s Ten?”</p><p>Always the two of them. </p><p>They don’t warn you about the possibility of an end. </p><p>Johnny wishes they had. It takes Johnny three days to tell anyone that Ten has moved out. The bed is too big now. He wants to throw it out. Everything is too big. Their bathroom. Their dresser. </p><p>Fuck, this place was supposed to be home.</p><p>Ten had chosen the bed. He hadn’t even bothered negotiating for it, just handed it over to Johnny like he did the keys to the apartment. Johnny wonders when the anger will set in. Right now he’s still too raw to function. It’s a wonder he managed to take a bath at all.</p><p>He remembers the motions that he’d put on hold since the fallout: moisturizer, clothes, dry his hair. </p><p>He should probably eat something. (He should definitely eat something.) </p><p>The ticking of the clock is his only companion— well, that and the hum of the air conditioning.</p><p>How does one even begin the process of extricating themselves from someone else’s life? </p><p>There’s furniture. Johnny had watched Ten take apart the shelves they’d put up together after they’d gone to IKEA and spent all night putting them together, and then fucking in the living room.</p><p>There’s clothing. The cabinets that line one entire row in their (his) bedroom are half mostly empty. Ten had taken everything of his and nothing of Johnny’s. Not even a hoodie to remember him by. </p><p>There’s stuff. So much stuff. An entire relationship measured in stuff.</p><p>Ten had taken the tea set. He’d left half of the Corelle plates that Taeyong had gifted them both when they first moved into this place. </p><p>“Your share,” Ten had said, like he was stating the weather. Johnny had watched him wrap his own share delicately in newspaper and bubble wrap.</p><p>Johnny closes his eyes, rests his hands against the edge of the marble countertop. Fucking marble. That hadn’t even been his idea, and now he has to live in the mausoleum of his and Ten’s own making. </p><p>“What about this place?” </p><p>“It’s yours,” Ten had said. “It’s under your name.”</p><p>Under his name, sure, but the both of them had built it. They’d fought over the couch, if you could call it a fight. Ten had wanted to take it, and Johnny had said that that wasn’t fair because Johnny had made the final decision to get it instead of the suede one.</p><p>Ten had just said “Ok.”</p><p>Hardly a fight. </p><p>Johnny feels a tear prick in the corner of his eye that he wipes off. Strange how a relationship dies right before your eyes. He wonders if there was any way to stop it, but they’d both felt like ghosts toward each other in the end.</p><p>Johnny pulls a can of tuna from the cupboard over the sink, and a bowl from the drying rack. Pops the can open, empties the contents into the bowl, puts the bowl in the microwave, hits the timer for 2 minutes. This will do. </p><p>Ten would probably groan at his attempt at a meal.</p><p>Johnny needs to stop doing this. He needs to stop thinking about what Ten would do if he was here because the fact of the matter is that Johnny would not be eating tuna from a bowl like he had in college if Ten was around. They’d be at the dining table—now gone— and happy.</p><p>Okay, well. No. Happy is a stretch. They hadn’t been happy for a long time. They’d just been around, coexisting. </p><p>Johnny had carried on thinking coexistence was okay. Isn’t this what people wanted? Stability? Isn’t this what stability looked like? Pleasant greetings. No fights.</p><p> </p><p>↩️↩️↩️</p><p> </p><p>The first time Johnny kisses Ten is when he is sixteen and Ten is fifteen and Johnny is terrified and Ten is curious. </p><p>It isn’t that great, actually, but then again, when are first kisses supposed to be great? Sure, they’re great in movies, but this is real life, and neither of them know how.</p><p>“That wasn’t very good,” Ten pouts, his lip jutting out. “I thought there would be like fireworks or something.” </p><p>“Maybe it’s cos we’re not in love,” Johnny says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. </p><p>“I mean, I guess,” Ten says. “Maybe we should try again.”</p><p>So they do, and this time, Ten is leaning in with more than just his face, he’s closer now than that first attempt. Johnny’s eyes slide closed and he tries to imagine what Ryan Gosling had looked like when he kissed Rachel McAdams in <em>The Notebook,</em> and cups Ten’s face in his hands.</p><p>That changes the angle of their kiss, and that’s when Johnny feels the tip of Ten’s tongue request for entry, his lips coming apart as Ten licks into his mouth. As far are second kisses go, Johnny thinks maybe this is perfect. His body is sort of on fire, but Ten pulls away.</p><p>“Wow,” Ten says, his chest heaving. “That was so much better than the first.” </p><p>Johnny, through the tingling on his lips and the heady feeling washing over him, manages a useless, dazed, “Yeah,” before Ten is laughing and turning back to his phone. </p><p>“Thanks, Johnny,” Ten says.</p><p>‘Thanks, Johnny,’ Ten says, like this kiss hadn’t changed anything. Not like Johnny’s entire fucking axis has been shifted or anything. What the fuck? Why does he want more? Christ. He glances down and hopes that Ten can’t see his pants sort of tenting. This is embarrassing.</p><p>Johnny excuses himself to the bathroom, and kind of wishes he could go home. He can’t jerk off in his best friend’s bathroom while said best friend is on the end side of the door, what the fuck! He needs to calm down. Think of unsexy things. Like his job at McDonald’s. Taxes.</p><p>He flushes the toilet to make it seem like he actually used it, and splashes cold water on his face before pulling out some paper towels to wipe it off. Johnny is still blushing by the time he gets back out and settles next to Ten, but at least the thought of his math homework has effectively squashed his budding boner.</p><p>“Do you think that new kid Qian Kun is cute?” Ten asks, waving his phone around, clearly on Qian Kun’s Facebook page. </p><p>“Yeah,” Johnny says, because it’s true. He’s let his eyes linger on Kun more times in school than he cares to count. “He’s got a nice voice, too. He’s in choir.”</p><p>“He <em> does, </em>” Ten says, eyes back on the screen, scrolling through whatever public photos Kun has on his profile. “Do you think he swings our way?” </p><p>Johnny gets back on Ten’s bed and reclines next to him. </p><p>“I literally cannot tell, Tennie,” Johnny replies. “Are you interested?”</p><p>“Nah,” Ten replies before tossing his phone on the bed and turning over to lie on his belly to scoot closer into Johnny’s side. “I kind of wanna make out some more, though.” </p><p>Air rushes out of Johnny’s lungs at this. There goes his attempt at keeping himself at no-chub.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>↪️↪️↪️</p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Sicheng’s voice is hushed like he doesn’t want to startle Johnny. </p><p>Johnny sits up higher, his phone pressed to his ear. </p><p>“Hey, Sicheng,” Johnny says. “What’s up?”</p><p>“I’m checking in,” Sicheng replies. Johnny can hear the sound of a beat that loops in the background.</p><p>“You in the studio?” Johnny asks, in lieu of an answer, though that’s just a delaying tactic. Sicheng never lets him beat around the bush for too long. </p><p>“Yeah, Kunkun’s working on something new,” Sicheng replies. “Are you eating?” </p><p>“Not right now--“</p><p>“You know what I mean.”</p><p>“I am,” Johnny replies. “But only because I can hear your voice kicking my ass if I don’t.” </p><p>“I’ll take it,” Sicheng says. There’s a sort of static on the line, then rustling. </p><p>“Is that John?” Johnny hears Kun’s voice far-off. </p><p>“Yeah,” Sicheng replies. “Hold up, Johnny.”</p><p>“Johnny?” Kun says on the line. “Hey, how are you?” </p><p>Johnny digs the nail of his thumb into the meat of his thigh. He hates this question. How is he supposed to answer it? ‘I feel like my limbs were cut off and I’m floating through space’ doesn’t sound reassuring.</p><p>“Getting by,” is what Johnny says instead. “I’m taking care of myself, don’t worry so much about me.” </p><p>He doesn’t want to be dismissive of his friends, especially since he knows that they’re checking in on both of them. </p><p>Johnny holds his tongue, bites down so hard he bleeds.</p><p>The iron taste in his mouth is worth it because it saves him from asking, “How’s Ten?” </p><p>Because neither answer is palatable. If Ten is happy then good for him. If Ten is miserable then good for him. Neither answer changes the fact that Johnny is here, alone, broken. Whatever.</p><p>Or maybe broken isn’t the right word. Johnny isn’t sure. </p><p>There’s been so much of just him and his thoughts and going over it and over it that he’s been doing but Johnny can’t make sense of the tangle anymore. </p><p>He wishes that going full ‘Eternal Sunshine’ was possible. Christ.</p><p>“You sticking to the schedule like we suggested?” Kun asks. The concern in his voice is evident. Johnny wonders if he talks to Ten like this. Does Ten have a schedule too? Do Kun and Sicheng call him up and ask him if he’s eating, as well? </p><p>“Yeah, Kunkun, I am,” Johnny replies.</p><p>“Okay, good,” Kun says placatingly. “I’m gonna get back to work, here’s Winwin. I’ll see you on Saturday, yeah?” </p><p>“See you,” Johnny says before Sicheng says, “Hey,” again. </p><p>“You wanna ask about him,” Sicheng says quietly. </p><p>Johnny doesn’t respond. He just bites down harder.</p><p>“He’s getting by, too,” Sicheng says. “That’s all you get.” </p><p>“I didn’t ask,” Johnny says, a little bitter. His stomach clenches.</p><p>“Didn’t I tell you already that I can hear your thoughts?” Sicheng says. </p><p>“Ominous,” Johnny responds, deadpan. </p><p>Sicheng just laughs on the line.</p><p>“What’s on your schedule today?” Sicheng asks. </p><p>Johnny closes his eyes. He’s supposed to do small manageable tasks. He already failed in the “cook breakfast” department, but he has things to look over, emails to answer, manuscripts to read through. </p><p>“Work,” he says.</p><p>“Alright, I won’t keep you,” Sicheng says. “See you soon, Johnny.” </p><p>“Thank you, Winwin,” Johnny says. “You two take care.” </p><p>The call ends, and then there’s just silence. </p><p>Johnny exhales. It’s been a fucking week. He needs to shake this off. They called it quits for a reason.</p><p>He brings himself to the desk that sits in front of the window. The sunlight is streaming in, hot where the rays hit him but pleasant enough that he doesn’t mind it. </p><p>In his head, Ten’s voice calling him a sunflower.</p><p> </p><p>↩️↩️↩️</p><p> </p><p>“Ten, I love you,” Johnny blurts out, before clamping his hands over his mouth. </p><p>Ten pauses his actions, his left foot just barely out of his sneaker. </p><p>“Uh,” Ten says delicately, moving slowly like Johnny’s a cat that will startle at sudden movement. “I love you too?”</p><p>Ten’s just arrived from a night out with god-knows-who. Another one-night-stand with a man that Johnny doesn’t know and will never know. </p><p>Johnny had paced the entire night until he tired himself out and fallen asleep on the couch, thinking, “Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will tell him.”</p><p>“No!” Johnny says, standing, wired up, his fingers pushing his hair back so he can walk over to Ten. “I mean. Fuck. That’s. I practiced this, hold on.”</p><p>“Johnny,” Ten says, setting his bag down on the floor of the tiny hallway in their tiny, shitty apartment. “What’s going on?”</p><p>Johnny steels himself, takes a step back, takes Ten by the wrist and walks them over to the couch. </p><p>Johnny sits, and Ten follows suit. </p><p>“What I’m about to say is either going to fuck things up monumentally, or make today the happiest day of my life,” Johnny starts, and then clenches his hands on his lap.</p><p>“Tennie, I love you. I'm in love with you,” Johnny says. “I know that’s a huge— I mean, it’s a big deal. You and I both know I don’t throw that word around lightly. So I’m sorry if this feels like a lot of pressure on you, but I can’t keep watching you leave and pretending that it doesn’t keep me up at night when I think about you in another man’s bed, and I know that jealousy is such an ugly emotion, but things have been weird with us for a few weeks and I need you to know that that’s why. I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole. I’ll try to get over you.”</p><p>Ten looks up at Johnny, and takes his face between his hands. </p><p>Johnny’s heart is a thunderstorm. </p><p>“Silly man,” Ten says. “Why would you do that?” </p><p>“Do what?” Johnny whispers. </p><p>“Get over me?” Ten says, before bringing his lips to Johnny’s, a kiss so searing John’s mind blanks.</p><p>Ten straddles Johnny on their couch that can barely fit the two of them, but Johnny doesn’t mind, not when Ten kisses him like he wants to devour Johnny, nothing like the first kiss they ever shared. The ten at 15 and the Ten at 25 are vastly different people, but just as sweet.</p><p>“No more other people,” Ten murmurs, kissing his way down Johnny’s neck. “Is that what you want? Just you?”</p><p>Johnny tightens his grip on Ten’s hip, his thigh. His throat is Sahara-dry. </p><p>“Yeah,” Johnny rasps out. “Just me.” </p><p>Ten‘s laugh is saccharine. </p><p>“Took you long enough.”</p><p>Later, when they take each other apart on Johnny’s bed, Johnny wonders at how easy it was to take this next step. Ten teases him for taking his damn time, and Johnny kisses him senseless. Ten crinkles his nose when Johnny starts listing all the things he loves about Ten. </p><p>Perfect.</p><p> </p><p>↪️↪️↪️</p><p> </p><p>Johnny stares at the bed from the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. </p><p>Ten’s side of the bed was always the left one, because he preferred to sleep on his left, and he preferred to have Johnny wrapped around him like that. </p><p>Johnny closes his eyes.</p><p>He’s angry, but not at Ten. Not right now. </p><p>He’s angry with himself. They spent months and months just living in the same space and letting a chasm build between them. </p><p>He should have seen it coming when the sex stopped. There wasn’t anyone else for either of them, but still.</p><p>They didn’t talk about it. Just that they were tired all the time, and he hadn’t held it against Ten, not when Ten still took his arm and draped it over him when they curled up in bed anyway. </p><p>Even on Ten’s last night in the apartment, that's how they'd fallen asleep.</p><p>His back is killing him. He’d spent the afternoon decimating an entire manuscript, essentially redlining the first three chapters and calling it a day since the rest of the story didn’t seem salvageable anymore. The YA novelists of his youth had done better jobs than this. Jesus.</p><p>Not for the first time, he misses Ten. </p><p>He remembers when he’d gotten all four wisdom teeth taken out at once and all there had been was this dull ache for days and Johnny feels like one entire fucking toothache. What the fuck. He’s so fucking tired of feeling this way.</p><p>He thinks about going out for cigarettes like it will help anything, but he’s five years clean and he’s not exactly keen to get back to it. He just wants to make bad decisions, but he can’t even bring himself to do that. He’s just so exhausted.</p><p>Johnny sits on his side of the bed and buries his face in his hands. He hasn't cried since Ten left, just that once when Ten had enveloped him in his embrace before pressing the key into Johnny's hand. </p><p>"Take care, baby," Ten had said. "I love you."</p><p>"I love you."</p><p>God. God.</p><p>Johnny kind of wishes that they'd fought more. Had a shouting match maybe. Had been less restrained? Why had they never shouted at each other? Isn't that what couples did-- scream and cry and kiss and fuck and make things okay? Didn't people work their problems out like that?</p><p>How the fuck is Johnny supposed to move on from someone his heart has known since they were kids? Johnny was there for Ten's milk teeth coming out. Ten was there to laugh at Johnny when he'd been tricked into going in for his circumcision. All of their firsts, side by side.</p><p>First gay kiss. First mutual handjob. First biking injury (Ten's) and skateboard injury (Johnny's). First time on stage dancing together. First time living out of their respective homes. </p><p>First love. First love. First love. Even when they'd dated other people. Even then.</p><p>The point is this: he and Ten have a history that spans so much more than their romantic one. He doesn't understand how to move on from that and go back to whatever they were before this.</p><p>How is he supposed to pick up the pieces? </p><p>Are they even allowed to go back?</p><p> </p><p>↩️↩️↩️</p><p> </p><p>There are hands on his shoulders that make Johnny startle awake, then arms around his neck as Ten fits his chin over the top of Johnny’s head. </p><p>“Baby,” Ten whispers. “You’ve been at this for hours.” </p><p>Johnny adjusts his posture and pushes his shoulders back. </p><p>“Hey, sweetheart.”</p><p>“It’s almost 11,” Ten says softly. “Can you come to bed?” </p><p>Johnny exhales, pulls his glasses off and tosses them to the side. </p><p>“I should,” Johnny says. “This project’s just killing me. Taeil’s told me there are three new ones lined up for this week and I’m just scrambling.”</p><p>“I know, baby,” Ten replies, pulling Johnny closer, bending over the seat so he can press soft kisses to Johnny’s temple. “You think they’ll be any good?” </p><p>Johnny groans. He hopes so. </p><p>“This one’s really promising,” Johnny says, gesturing to his work laptop. “At least.”</p><p>When Ten manages to get Johnny onto their bed, he makes Johnny lie on his belly before promptly straddling Johnny’s ass, and digging his thumbs into the meat of Johnny’s shoulder blades. </p><p>A jolt of electricity courses through his body at Ten’s touch.</p><p>Ten rocks back and forth slowly as he works his way down Johnny’s back, pressure points making Johnny groan out and Ten laugh softly under his breath. </p><p>“My tired baby,” Ten says soothingly. “The both of us need to work on our posture. We’re sitting like shrimps all day.”</p><p>“I-know-I’m-fucking shit Ten yesssss-I’m trying,” Johnny says, each word punctuated by Ten striking his back with the side of his hands that are pressed together. </p><p>As Ten reaches forward to press a kiss to the back of Johnny’s neck, Johnny can feel Ten’s hardness against him.</p><p>“Excited, Tennie?” Johnny teases, turning his face to the side, his cheek smushed up against the pillow. </p><p>Ten rolls his hips, erection pressing into Johnny’s ass. </p><p>“You make pretty sounds when I massage you, baby,” Ten says. “How am I supposed to help myself?”</p><p>Johnny laughs. He hadn’t exactly been in the mood, but Ten is persuasive, and it would be nice to get taken care of. </p><p>Johnny reaches out with his hand blindly pulling open Ten’s side table, the bottle of lubricant and the plug his keeps in a satin bag right where he can reach.</p><p>“Do you wanna play, Tennie?” Johnny asks. Ten groans, rolls his hips again, his breath hot in Johnny’s ear as he drapes himself over his back. </p><p>“You want me to take you apart, baby?” Ten asks, taking the bottle and the toy from him. </p><p>“Yes, please,” Johnny says. “Please, sir.”</p><p> </p><p>↪️↪️↪️</p><p> </p><p>Johnny steps out of the apartment and into sunlight, and allows himself to stand tall, something he hasn’t been able to do since. Well. The fallout. </p><p>He feels like a foreigner in his own neighborhood, and he realizes that he’s going to be spending the near future having to deflect questions from people that he meets. He and Ten had spent so much time getting to know the owners of the bakery, the florist who ran the shop two blocks over, the mom-and-pop convenience store-slash-restaurant right next door. All of them asking him where Ten is.</p><p>And isn’t that the worst part? He can’t even tell them because he doesn’t know. He has no idea if he’s still in Korea at this point or if he’d decided to fly back to Thailand. Johnny could ask their friends, but Ten had asked him not to. </p><p>“For both our sakes, Johnny,” he’d said. “For <em> both </em> our sakes.” </p><p>Like that meant anything in the long run. Like that would change the fact that he fell in love with his best friend and then all of a sudden, they’d become strangers to each other. How would that be better for both their sakes?</p><p>He could avoid everyone altogether, but he’s been MIA for over a week already, and it’s unhealthy that he hasn’t spoken to another human being in the flesh since Ten left, so he steps into his (their) favorite coffee shop, and decides to bite the bullet.</p><p>“Johnny-hyung!” Jaemin says brightly from behind the espresso machine. “Looooong time no see! Did you and Ten-hyung go on vacation?”</p><p>There it is. Johnny exhales. </p><p>“Hey, Jaems,” Johnny says. “Uh, no. We uh. Actually we broke up.”</p><p>The progression from chipper to crestfallen on Jaemin’s face happens in a stepwise manner as he processes the words. </p><p>“You--you guys broke up?” Jaemin repeats. He sets down the mug he’d been holding. Johnny’s glad he didn’t drop it. </p><p>“Ah, yeah,” Johnny says, rubbing his neck. “It was time.” </p><p>He hates how the words taste in his mouth. Their relationship wasn’t supposed to have an expiration date, but it wasn’t like he could reverse the fact that their relationship had fallen flat, like soda left out with the cover off, its spirit gone.</p><p>“Man, how are any of us supposed to believe in true love anymore?” Jaemin says, his expression pained, before he clamps his hand over his mouth. Johnny can see the regret, and he laughs before Jaemin can start beating himself up over the comment. </p><p>“I’m so sorry,” Jaemin says.</p><p>“It’s okay,” says, waving him off. “Really, it’s okay. It sucks but it is what it is.” </p><p>‘God, Ten. Why’d you leave me to do the dirty work here?’ Johnny thinks. </p><p>“You’ll have your usual?” Jaemin asks. “You rushing or do you have time to hang here?” </p><p>It’s a Sunday. He has time.</p><p>“Okay great cos we’ve got a new Aeropress and I want you to try it,” Jaemin says. “Take a seat. You like Arabica right?” </p><p>“Yes, quite particular to it, thank you,” Johnny says, before taking his usual seat. It’s strange sitting here without Ten, but he’s adjusting.</p><p>The cafe is filled with odds and ends, books donated by regulars over time. The tables have glass that covers letters and notes that the customers have left thanking them since they opened on this corner some 20 years ago. Jaemin’s family owns it, and now he mans the place.</p><p>Jaemin puts the entire set up on Johnny’s table, and Johnny lets his mind relax as Jaemin explains the plunger mechanism and how to work the entire contraption. He thinks about the Nespresso that he’d gotten Ten. Thinks about how fun it had been to choose a new flavor of pods.</p><p>“And then when you hear the hissing noise,” Jaemin continues, pressing down on the plunger. “You know you’re done.” </p><p>Jaemin’s smiling at him, and it gives Johnny a sense of normalcy that Jaemin isn’t prying further. He’s so grateful that he decides to order a cake as well.</p><p>“Enjoy your coffee, Johnny-hyung,” Jaemin says, cleaning up the spilled coffee grounds. “It’s on the house!”</p><p>“Jaems, come on, no—“ Johnny says. </p><p>“Johnny-hyung, please let me do at least this,” Jaemin says, still smiling. </p><p>Johnny exhales. </p><p>“Thank you,” he says.</p><p> </p><p>↩️↩️↩️</p><p> </p><p>“Tennie?” </p><p>The apartment is quiet for a weekday evening. Ten usually has his music playing from the Motorino he’d bought himself earlier in the year for his birthday. </p><p>Johnny hooks the keys on the little hook by the door, toes his shoes off, and makes his way into the kitchen.</p><p>Ten doesn’t look up from the pot he’s stirring, and startles when Johnny comes up to him from behind. </p><p>“Hey,” Johnny says, a kiss to Ten’s ear. The chain dangling from it sways from the motion. </p><p>“Hi,” Ten says pleasantly, but he sounds far away. “Work okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Johnny says, pulling the refrigerator door open and bending down to grab a bottle of beer. “Sehun called me in though. I was so fucking scared. Thought I was getting the boot.” </p><p>Ten looks up from his cooking. </p><p>“Oh my god—“</p><p>“Relax,” Johnny laughs. “It wasn’t that.”</p><p>“Thank God,” Ten says, dropping the wooden spoon on the counter. “I know how much this job means to you.” </p><p>Johnny smiles at his boyfriend, his best friend, and comes over to trap Ten between the counter and his body. </p><p>He looks down, and Ten keeps his gaze fixed on Johnny’s chin.</p><p>“Is something wrong, Tennie?” </p><p>Ten looks up, meets Johnny gaze, and touches Johnny’s cheek with his hand. </p><p>“I’m not sure, baby,” Ten says. </p><p>Johnny feels ice douse him from head to toe. Ten’s voice is off. </p><p>“What do you mean?” Johnny asks. He’s trying to read Ten but can’t.</p><p>“Come on, let’s have dinner first,” Ten says, spooning the stir-fried vegetables onto piping hot rice. </p><p>Johnny is patient, has always been patient. Whatever is wrong, they’re going to work it out. </p><p>Johnny takes the plate from him, and Ten makes one for himself.</p><p>They move to their dining table, the square white oak gleaming in the yellow light. They sit next to each other, and eat in silence. </p><p>They’ve been doing this a lot, eating in silence. Like all their years of knowing each other have started to dry up the fount of conversation. But it’s not necessarily a bad thing, Johnny feels. Their silences are comfortable. That’s never been anything he’s had to worry about. </p><p>When Ten sets his fork down and moves it to the side of the plate, Johnny follows suit. </p><p>“Are you ready to talk now?” Johnny asks.</p><p>“I don’t think I’ll ever be, baby, but I gotta get this off my chest,” Ten says. </p><p>Johnny takes a sip from his beer. </p><p>“Okay, what’s going on?” Johnny says. </p><p>Ten inhales through his nose, holds it, exhales through his mouth.</p><p>“Do you still love me?” Ten asks. </p><p>Johnny is glad he’d taken the gulp before this question, because this question makes no fucking sense. </p><p>“Tennie, of course I do,” Johnny says. “Have I done anything to make you think otherwise?” </p><p>“No,” Ten replies quickly. “No, I believe you.”</p><p>Johnny’s hands are starting to grow cold, his body’s way of telling him that danger is coming. What is Ten going on about?</p><p>“I still love you, I want that to be clear,” Ten says. </p><p>“Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ coming, Ten?” Johnny says, his heart thudding now.</p><p>“Does it ever feel like you and I are at a fork in the road?” Ten asks quietly instead of answering him. </p><p>A fork in the road. What the fuck does that mean?</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ten,” Johnny says. He’s trying to keep the panic from his voice.</p><p>“Sometimes I feel like we’re just coexisting,” Ten says. “Don’t you feel that way? Like we’re roommates and that’s it.” </p><p>It’s not something that Johnny pays too much attention to. He’s been happy to have their cozy little life here. He doesn’t understand what Ten means.</p><p>“I think that we’re comfortable with each other, and our relationship is stable,” Johnny says. He’s keeping his hands to himself as he tries to keep the bile from rising in his throat. “I haven’t thought anything was wrong, Tennie. But clearly you do?” </p><p>Ten is quiet. Wistful.</p><p>“I just wonder if we’re staying together for the right reasons,” Ten says. “But it’s just something I’m thinking about, baby. Maybe we just need to sort of evaluate our relationship.” </p><p>Johnny quells the annoyance. He has to stay calm, but this is breaking him.</p><p>“Evaluate? Like this has been a project and we’re gonna answer some questionnaires about whether it was satisfactory?” Johnny asks, voice falling flat. </p><p>“There’s no need to be mean,” Ten says quietly. </p><p>Johnny closes his eyes. He feels blindsided by this and lost at sea.</p><p>"What do you want to happen, Tennie? Why are you being vague?" Johnny asks, and he knows he's sounding a little desperate. "Tell me what you're thinking." </p><p>Ten is quiet for a while, but then he looks up at Johnny, and there are tears in his eyes. </p><p>"I'm afraid, baby," Ten says.</p><p>"Of what?" Johnny says, taking Ten's hand in his.</p><p>"Of not being in love with you anymore," Ten replies. </p><p>Oh. </p><p>Oh. </p><p>Johnny's throat closes up. </p><p>"Are you not?" Johnny rasps out. </p><p>"I don't know," Ten replies, holding on tighter. "I don't know, Johnny."</p><p> </p><p>↪️↪️↪️</p><p>Johnny's dreading the evening. He's considered bailing, but he knows that Sicheng will kick his ass if he tries to weasel his way out of the dinner, so instead, Johnny just accepts his fate, throws himself in the shower, and stands in front of his dresser.</p><p>He glances at himself in the mirror and opens the cabinet doors to find something to wear. </p><p>He pointedly ignores Ten's side of the cabinet. There's nothing in there anyway. He pulls out his black button-down, some jeans, a belt. This will do.</p><p>He runs through a mental list of the people who will be there: Kun, Sicheng, Taeyong, Mark. Small group. Manageable. </p><p>Seeing Taeyong will hurt the most, he thinks, because he'd been the one he'd called first after all of it. The closest to them both. Johnny doesn't feel ready.</p><p>He'd begged Taeyong not to come over. Had begged the entire group really. How the fuck are you supposed to deal with the division of friends? None of Johnny's other relationships were like this. When he and Shownu had split, it had been easier because they didn't share friends. But Ten and Johnny have shared friends for years and years and years. No sort of protocol exists when you're both so inextricably tied together. So now their friends shuttle themselves between the two like they're divorcees and their children bounce back to him on schedule.</p><p>Belatedly, Johnny thanks his lucky stars that they aren't going through an actual legal proceeding. </p><p>(Belatedly, Johnny forces himself to not think about the ring that still sits in his sock drawer, hidden in the back.)</p><p>(Had Ten seen it? Had he known?)</p><p>(Is that why he left?)</p><p>Johnny shakes himself. </p><p>That had been a stupid decision. Who buys a ring after their boyfriend tells them they aren't in love with them anymore?</p><p>You don't win people back with expensive things. </p><p>Stupid. Stupid.</p><p>He puts moisturizer on and pats his face harder than needed.</p><p>A message comes in and Johnny checks it before buttoning his shirt up. </p><p>
  <b>Mark Lee 07:04 pm</b>
</p><p>
  <em> Hey hyung! Taeyong-hyung and I are gonna be on our way. Do you want us to swing by for you? Or are you taking the train? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Johnny hadn't banked on seeing anyone sooner than the restaurant, but it would be significantly easier to have Taeyong and his brother swing by for him than him making the commute. Besides, it's stupid. Johnny shouldn't be avoiding his other best friends like this.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Me 7:06 pm</b>
</p><p>
  <em> Hey Markie, yeah, that'd be a huge help if you guys picked me up, if that isn't too much of a bother </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Mark Lee 7:06 pm</b>
</p><p>
  <em> It's all good. besides I think taeyong-hyung would have beaten your ass up if you said no </em>
</p><p>
  <em> actually he told me to tell you that so yeah hahaha </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Johnny laughs to himself before replying in the affirmative and then turns back to the mirror to finish putting himself together.  So the evening is going to play out with people asking him how he's doing, and it's going to grate on him, but he's going to pretend it doesn't. He's going to put on a brave face and tell people he's doing okay because he doesn't need people worrying about him. He is okay, for the most part. He's keeping it together. He is. He swears he is. </p><p>Johnny sighs. </p><p>Pulls out his perfume that smells nothing like Ten's, and sprays.</p><p>Taeyong and Mark arrive about 20 minutes after that, and Johnny steels himself before he pulls the door open and slips inside. This smell is familiar. Taeyong has always smelled like rosewater, and his car is no different. </p><p>It's comforting. Grounding.</p><p>“Hi,” Johnny says, leaning in to press a kiss to Taeyong’s cheek. “I’ve missed you.” </p><p>Taeyong turns to look at him pointedly and rolls his eyes. </p><p>“You know I’ve missed you too,” Taeyong says, starting the car. </p><p>“Hey dude,” Johnny says, knocking his fist on Mark’s shoulder.</p><p>“Wassup,” Mark says, nodding at Johnny. </p><p>“You look nice,” Taeyong says. </p><p>“Yeah Johnny-hyung, looking good tonight!” Mark says. </p><p>“Can you tone your crush down, Minhyung? Oh my God,” Taeyong laughs. </p><p>“What? Sue me,” Mark fires back, and turns back to his phone.</p><p>Johnny smiles.</p><p>“I’m feeling better than I thought I would be,” Johnny says. </p><p>“I told you you would after seeing me,” Taeyong says as he turns into another street, both hands on the steering wheel. “Is work kicking your ass? Any new projects?” </p><p>“I’m in the middle of one right now,” Johnny says.</p><p>Johnny throws himself into talking about work, and Taeyong follows suit, talking about how his students are, how their family is doing, how Ruby back home now has a companion named Haetnim. Mark shows him videos while they drive. He’d forgotten that life still moved around him.</p><p>When they arrive at the restaurant, they’re ushered in by the front of house after giving Sicheng’s name. It’s an Italian restaurant on Kun’s insistence, and when they find the couple sitting in the booth, Johnny nearly deflates from how good it is to see his friends.</p><p>Kun and Sicheng both slide out to embrace the newcomers, and it’s a wonder that Johnny had allowed himself to be without this for the worst of this week. </p><p>A scent of Kun’s Jo Malone hits him and Johnny could nearly weep.</p><p>When Kun throws his arms around Johnny’s neck, Johnny holds on tighter than intended. </p><p>“About time you came out of hiding,” Kun teases. </p><p>“Yeah yeah, I’m here, aren’t I?” Johnny laughs. </p><p>Sicheng punches Johnny in the arm, and comes in for the hug. </p><p>“Missed you, Sasquatch.”</p><p>They all squish into the booth comfortably, and the waiter comes over with leather-bound menus that they all scan through fairly quickly, before placing their orders. Johnny relishes in this little respite before one of them will surely turn their laser focus on him.</p><p>“Okay,” Kun says. “Let’s get this out of the way because I know you’re dreading it. How are you doing? And I don’t mean the usual ‘I’m okay’ that you’ve been giving us through text. How are you really? Walk us through your day.” </p><p>Johnny knew it was coming, so he takes a breath.</p><p>How is he, really?</p><p>“Ten is the first thing I think of when I open my eyes,” Johnny says. “I spent all those days with him waking up and thinking about everything else that wasn’t him, and now that he’s gone, he’s all I can think about. I reach out to his side of the bed. I reach out and feel nothing. I keep trying to figure out when the cracks started to show. Like what exact point in time did he fall out of love with me? And at what point in time did that be okay with me?” </p><p>Johnny takes a sip of water. </p><p>“Should I have fought harder for him?”</p><p>“Didn’t you, though?” Taeyong says. </p><p>“For a while,” Johnny says. “I tried. But part of me kind of didn’t want to have to convince someone to want to stay for me, you know?” </p><p>Sicheng sighs. </p><p>Mark keeps his eyes fixed on the table.</p><p>“After a while, he started to make sense,” Johnny continues. “We’ve been together so long that it was like we couldn’t be ourselves without the other, and for a while that was good, but I think it started to grate on him. And I can’t exactly blame him for that, can I?”</p><p>They’re quiet for a while. </p><p>“I keep waiting to be angry with him,” Johnny says. “But I can’t bring myself to. Maybe he was right. It was time to see who we were without each other. I just wish I could catch up, you know? I feel like he had such a head start on moving on.”</p><p>Johnny hunches over, rubs his forehead with his hand.</p><p>“But you asked me how I am, and I swear I’m doing as okay as I can be. It’s a lot of relearning how to do things without him, sure,” Johnny finishes. “But I’m getting by. It’s just going to take a while. I lost my best friend, man. He’s the one who saw me through everything. But what do you do when the person you’d take a bullet for is the one pulling the trigger, you know?” </p><p>“You did not just quote Fall Out Boy right now,” Mark deadpans. </p><p>“What? It’s a good song!” Johnny says defensively, wiping a tear away. </p><p>“I can’t believe you,” Mark says.</p><p>It breaks the ice, and the heavy shroud over them lifts as their food arrives. </p><p>As they start serving themselves some pasta and chicken, Kun says, “Okay, Johnny. We’ll take your word for it that you’re doing okay.” </p><p>And that’s the last it’s brought up.</p><p>As the dinner winds down, Johnny finds himself relaxing more and more, and he allows himself to laugh, allows himself to loosen the tight hold he has on his shoulders. He slings his arm over the back of the booth, drinks his wine easy. He’s happy for the first time in a while.</p><p>There’s a lot that he owes his friends for, especially when he knows that whatever they’re doing for him, they’re probably doing for Ten, as well. Surely this isn’t easy on them either, but they’re making a valiant effort for Johnny, and Johnny doesn’t take that for granted.</p><p>A little alert goes up on his lockscreen telling him that Kun has tagged Johnny in the group photo they’d posed for earlier. </p><p>In an instant, a little “tenlee_1001” appears in the “Liked by”. </p><p>Johnny ignores it. He double taps the photo, and locks his phone.</p><p> </p><p>↩️↩️↩️</p><p> </p><p>A breeze blows over Johnny’s face as he keeps his eyes closed, the wind cool through his hair and a soothing counterpoint to the sun slipping through the leaves overhead. It’s mostly quiet, mostly peaceful, just the sound of children playing on the field. </p><p>Ten stirs in his arms.</p><p>“Baby, you awake?” Ten whispers, his voice close. Johnny keeps his eyes shut, pretends to still be asleep. </p><p>Ten presses a soft kiss to his cheek. </p><p>“Well, since you’re asleep, I can say all this without either of us cringing,” Ten says, his voice soft. Johnny breathes steadily.</p><p>“Loving you feels like a summer day,” Ten whispers. “Loving you is easy like today, effortless and light. When I think about what your love tastes like, it tastes like this: the sun, and a cool breeze, and watermelons, and I don’t even like watermelon but I like you. I really like you.”</p><p>Ten’s fingers dance on his collar before gently, deftly undoing one of the button’s on Johnny’s blue linen shirt. </p><p>“I could lay here like this forever, and love you, and that would be enough,” Ten continues before ghosting his hot breath over Johnny’s skin. Another breeze comes.</p><p>Johnny can’t help it, the sigh that pushes out of his lungs before his arms come to wrap around Ten. He drops his act, and rolls them over on the picnic mat so that he’s hovering above Ten who is giggling beneath him. </p><p>“I knew you were awake,” Ten laughs as Johnny tickles him.</p><p>“And yet you kept talking,” Johnny fires back, nosing at Ten’s neck before Ten gasps, the gasp turning into a moan as Johnny laps at his clavicle before biting down lightly. </p><p>“Trying to get a rise out of you, is all,” Ten laughs breathlessly.</p><p>Johnny rolls his hips against Ten’s thigh, his erection slowly starting to build. </p><p>“Well, you’ve succeeded,” Johnny replies while Ten pretends to be shocked, calling him a massive whore before succumbing to Johnny’s kiss and pulling away, going off about public indecency.</p><p>They pack up when the sun starts to set and all the cheese and grapes have been finished off. Johnny’s grateful for days like these because now that Ten’s got his job at the firm and Johnny’s started editing self-published books on the side, they’re finding alone time to be rare.</p><p>There’s work to be done at home, sure, but as Ten slips his fingers in between Johnny’s while they stroll back toward the parking lot to stow their picnic basket before heading out to grab dinner, Johnny feels like everything is blessedly, blessedly in place.</p><p>“Whatcha thinking, big fella?” Ten nudges him with his shoulder as they walk. When Johnny looks at his boyfriend, the sunset right behind him like a shroud, Johnny thinks, ‘I’ll never love anyone the way I love you.’</p><p>But instead of saying that, Johnny kisses Ten’s temple.</p><p>“What do you want for dinner?” Johnny asks as Ten unlocks his car and pops the trunk open. </p><p>“Sushi!” Ten says with his head through the opening of the back seat. </p><p>He straightens up and looks at Johnny brightly. Johnny winces. His next paycheck hasn’t come in yet. He can’t afford anything fancy right now.</p><p>“Oh, uh, do you think we could rain check that Tennie?” </p><p>“Oh, you’re not feeling it?” Ten asks, concerned. </p><p>“No, it’s just that they haven’t sent—“ </p><p>“I can spot you, baby, come on, don’t worry,” Ten says. “My treat.” </p><p>Johnny knows it’s a lost cause to argue, so he just nods. He doesn’t relish in talking about the differences in their finances. He’d managed to get the place, put it under his name on Ten’s insistence since he was paying for most of it at the time. Johnny had gotten them the apartment from savings, and a little help from his parents when he’d announced that he and Ten were moving in together. But now that there exists a clear delineation between who earns more in their household, Johnny finds himself starting to feel a low-lying sense of unease. </p><p>Ten had always been insistent that things eventually balanced out between them anyway, and for the most part, it has. It’s just difficult now that he feels it so acutely lately. Bills that Ten has been shouldering more often than not. Small luxuries that Johnny has decided to do without because cash on his end is tight. </p><p>He tries to not let it eat him up too much. </p><p> </p><p>↪️↪️↪️</p><p> </p><p>He needs to make some changes, so he does. </p><p>Johnny sets his alarms earlier, trying to catch the sunrise so he has time for himself and his coffee before he steps into the shower and gets ready for the day. </p><p>His suits fall a little looser on his frame. He hasn’t been eating well, and he hasn’t been working out either, content to just get through the day. </p><p>His heart begins a slow process of rebuilding itself in a manner that involves it functioning at its barest minimum, reminding himself that just because Ten walked out on him does not mean that he has to walk out on himself, even if he’s been sort of doing that this entire time. </p><p>He deletes his Instagram and Twitter apps for his peace of mind. He tells his friends that he can be contacted either through Facebook messenger, which they all groan at, or through KTT, which is how they really communicate now anyway. </p><p>He changes his relationship status on Facebook to ‘Single’ very quietly, and Unfriends Ten on it, just as quietly. </p><p>Johnny makes changes, and then makes some more. </p><p>He gets a haircut, the way one does after a breakup. He gets his hair dyed some auburn shade, and Jaemin compliments him on it when he strolls into the cafe for more bread and coffee. </p><p>He takes on more projects, and ignores the voice in his head that tells him that all his work is what made Ten leave him in the first place, because every day that voice tells him something else, and he’s learning to drown it out better. </p><p>Johnny goes out and buys his own record player, and makes sure that it bears no resemblance to the Motorino Ten had once owned. He sets up his own little home theatre. He buys more plants to fill the balcony and keep him company in the mornings when he sits there watching the sky fill with color and the city begin to awaken. </p><p>He buys a yoga mat, and learns how to do it through YouTube videos. </p><p>He fills his days with things to do, things that are new, things that are as far away from Ten as possible. He decides to check the Spotify playlists that are created for him so he can discover new music that doesn’t remind him too much of the dancy shit Ten used to listen to all the time, even if Johnny had loved the dancy shit. </p><p>Johnny starts to find ways to be himself and start anew. </p><p>He writes, often, constantly, when he isn’t working editing the writing of other people. </p><p>He crawls through websites that talk about adoption of pets, and then closes them. He isn’t ready for that, but at least he knows who to tap when he does. </p><p>He learns to stop looking at the calendar, to stop counting his days by the hour. </p><p>It’s work. It takes so much work. </p><p>Sometimes, he will call Sicheng up and he’ll come over and listen to Johnny cry, and Johnny had thought that this would the pinnacle of his shame, needing to have someone hold him while he mourns the loss of his best friend and his lover, especially when the person holding him together is still so closely tied to Ten, but Sicheng is strong and as stubborn as he is. </p><p>Sicheng, who had stood outside Johnny’s door and had caught Johnny immediately as Johnny had crumpled like a stack of bricks at his feet, wondering how the fuck he could have let Ten walk away from him. Sicheng, who had taken Johnny’s face in his hands, looked him in the eye and told Johnny to follow his breathing, slow and steady, in through the nose and out through his mouth, until Johnny had calmed down. </p><p>It’s a process, all this unlearning. </p><p>It takes him a month to tell his parents that Ten’s moved out. His mother cries on video call, and Johnny has to keep looking up at the ceiling to prevent his own tears from falling. His father has a deep frown, instinct dictating that he start threatening to go after Ten just to give him a piece of his mind. Johnny vetoes every plan that they suggest. </p><p>“Mom, dad, it’s okay,” Johnny says placatingly, already worn out by this conversation and dying to end the call. “I’ve been getting by, and getting better. I just wanted you to know, and I’m sorry it took so long to tell you.” </p><p>“I didn’t even know you were having problems, darling,” his mother says, blowing her nose on a frilly handkerchief. </p><p>“We were trying to work through it, mom,” Johnny says. “We didn’t exactly want to involve other people, no offense.”</p><p>His mother still takes offense, but it makes him smile anyway. </p><p>“I don’t want to hear you badmouthing him, okay?” Johnny says. “I don’t need that. I don’t need to hear you tell me you always had reservations about him or whatever, because we all know that isn’t true and that you were smitten by him and that’s with good reason. Ten’s not a bad person. We just weren’t a good fit anymore.” </p><p>They begrudgingly agree to keep their mouths shut, only airing their irritation that they hadn’t heard from Ten’s parents yet about this matter. Johnny helpfully reminds them that he and Ten weren’t engaged, and that they had no reason to reach out. His mother snaps at him and says “We’ve known the Leechayapornkuls longer than you and Ten have known each other.”</p><p>“Mom, I honestly don’t think Ten’s family knows yet, either,” Johnny says, trying to get her to calm down. “I haven’t even heard from Tern yet.” </p><p>It works, and his parents smother him with a long spiel about how he should come home, they’ll fly him out to Chicago if he wants, all expenses paid, and the temptation is so strong that he finds himself checking his holiday plans and thinking about how many vacation leaves he’s still got before finally booking a roundtrip ticket for Christmas five months from now. </p><p>The call leaves him wrung out, but excited enough. He’d thought that Christmas would be a joyful affair, that by some miracle his relationship with Ten would right itself in time for the holidays, but it had been an uphill climb for months. </p><p>It’s something to look forward to, at the least. </p><p> </p><p>↩️↩️↩️</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, Mr. Oh,” Johnny says into his phone, trying to find a pen on his desk to scribble the instructions his boss is dictating over the phone onto a clean sheet of paper. “Yes, I was able to work on the Laurie manuscript-- okay, yes, sir, I-- okay, well-- sir, with all due respect-- I, Okay. Yes sir. Yes. Yes sir.” </p><p>The call ends, and Johnny feels his temper flare. He tosses his phone on his desk, and takes three breaths before he can get back to the task at hand. </p><p>He’s taken more projects than he can handle, but given how he’s scrambling to keep his goddamn job, he’s got no choice but to work triple-time, and that means that even when he gets home, it’s only ever a momentary respite before he’s firing up his work laptop at his desk again after a rushed dinner. </p><p>His back is killing him and all he wants to do is get home, maybe stretch out on the couch for an hour, fill his stomach with something edible and get back to it. There really honestly aren’t enough hours in the day, but if he wants to get this done, he’s gonna have to put in the hours that he doesn’t have. </p><p>When he does get home, Ten is there, sitting on the couch watching some show on Netflix, and he unravels himself from the couch, graceful and lovely, and Johnny has no time to relish in it. </p><p>“Hi Tennie,” Johnny says, pressing a quick peck to Ten’s lips before dropping his leather messenger bag onto the table and heading to the kitchen. </p><p>“Long day?” Ten asks, floating into the kitchen after him, leaning his shoulder on the wall next to the fridge. </p><p>“It isn’t over, Tennie,” Johnny sighs. “Do we not have any leftovers?” </p><p>Ten looks taken aback, frowns, and crosses his arms over his chest. </p><p>“What?” Johnny asks, still rummaging through the shelves for something that isn’t marinated raw chicken breasts or vegetables that still need to be rinsed and diced. </p><p>“You forgot,” Ten says flatly. </p><p>“Forgot what?” Johnny huffs, straightening out and miffed that Ten is talking in riddles. </p><p>Ten purses his lips, and walks away. </p><p>Johnny’s blood boils in a way that has him clenching his fists at his side and walking out to see Ten head into their bedroom. What did he forget? It isn’t their anniversary, it isn’t anyone’s birthday, so what was he supposed to remember?</p><p>When Johnny walks into their bedroom, Ten is seated on his side of the bed, back turned away from him. </p><p>“Why aren’t you answering me?” Johnny asks, frowning. He doesn’t have time for this right now, and he’s already panicking about the mounting amount of minutes he’s wasting that he could be using to edit right now. “You know I hate it when you walk away from a conversation.” </p><p>“Yes, well, you know I hate it when you don’t honor the time we’re supposed to set aside for each other,” Ten says, before turning back to face Johnny, whose heart is sinking by the second. “My promotion, remember? You told me to set aside tonight because you said we had to celebrate. I told you we could save it for the end of the month, but you’d insisted, so I said yes.” </p><p>Johnny takes in Ten properly for the first time since getting home, at the make-up Ten has on, the loose sweater and the tight back jeans he’s wearing. Ten’s dressed to go out to dinner with him, and he’d completely forgotten. </p><p>Reality hits him over the head and it’s jarring and painful and he really, really fucked up. </p><p>“Tennie,” Johnny says, rushing to Ten’s side, dropping to his knees at Ten’s feet. Ten watches him quietly, his face placid. Johnny’s heart thuds and thuds, his stomach drops. “Tennie, baby, I’m so sorry.” </p><p>Johnny takes him by the hands and presses kisses on Ten’s fingers, adorned with thin rings scattered over every other one. </p><p>“I’m so, so sorry,” Johnny says, eyes downcast. “Today was so fucking horrible and it completely slipped my mind and I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll make it up to you.”</p><p>Ten is quiet, and Johnny feels himself sort of unravelling. He’s had one misstep over another with Ten this month and he feels like he’s in a sinking ship trying to pedal up for air. </p><p>Ten exhales.</p><p>“Let’s get something delivered then,” Ten says, bringing his hands to Johnny’s hair, and pulling Johnny’s face close to his chest. “I’m starving, you’re starving.” </p><p>Something breaks inside Johnny. Ten doesn’t usually acquiesce like this, not quite this easily. </p><p>“Tennie--”</p><p>“Johnny,” Ten says, his voice low and deep through his chest. “It’s fine. Leave it. Let’s just get something delivered. I want Filipino food tonight.”</p><p>Johnny brings his arms around Ten’s waist, shuffles his knees closer so that he’s kneeling between Ten’s legs properly, and buries his face in Ten’s neck. </p><p>“Okay,” Johnny says, feeling like this isn’t quite over, not really, but afraid to push any further. “Okay, baby.”</p><p>“Okay,” Ten says, before gently pushing him away and rising to his feet. “I’ll call them now.” </p><p>He picks up the landline, dials in the number that he knows by heart, and Johnny settles down next to him. </p><p>When he tries to take Ten’s hand, Ten pulls it away to reach out for his phone. </p><p> </p><p>↪️↪️↪️</p><p> </p><p>Johnny sees Ten again in the Lotte Department store one week before he’s set to fly out to Chicago, when Christmas decor has been put up everywhere and the rush to buy presents is at an all-time high. </p><p>It happens like those scenes in movies where Johnny is aimlessly looking through little statuettes he can take home for his mother before a familiar scent catches his attention and he’s left to look around for it before he spots Ten not too far from him, his back turned to Johnny. </p><p>Ten’s hair is longer, blond, falling in loose waves, curling at his nape. The sweater Ten wears is overwhelmingly large, and for a second Johnny thinks that it might be one of his before he remembers that he’s never owned a Burberry sweater. </p><p>Ten is looking up at a display of glass plates that are ornately stained, and a glance to somewhere far left allows Johnny to see his side profile, Ten’s beautiful button nose and the glasses that sit atop his nose bridge. </p><p>Johnny stares and stares, disbelieving that Ten is actually here, in South Korea still, in the flesh. </p><p>He considers calling out to Ten, but wonders what he would say. He’s done so well at avoiding Ten’s social media presence, has done so well at avoiding any trace of him. Johnny’s spent the last couple of months trying to navigate what a life without his best friend even means to him, how it’s done. </p><p>It’s taken this long for Johnny to start sleeping properly again, and it’s only happened since he’d sold off his bed and traded it out for something a bit smaller. </p><p>Calling out to Ten feels like he would be undoing the very careful rebuilding he’s been trying to do since Ten walked out of their apartment for good. </p><p>But it would be nice to say hello, wouldn’t it? </p><p>Perhaps he’s strong enough now. He isn’t the man he was when Ten had decided he was through with Johnny. Perhaps he’s capable of looking Ten in the eye and telling him that he misses--</p><p>A man comes over to Ten, tall like Johnny is, with three shopping bags in his massive hand, calling out Ten’s name like Ten hasn’t spotted him yet. Ten reaches his hand out, and the man leans down to press his lips on Ten’s forehead, and Johnny takes a breath before putting down the figurine he’d been holding, and rushing out of the store. </p><p>His breath comes in short pants as the cold air hits his face, and his hands are shaking. </p><p>His mind is white noise, his lips numb. He wonders if their friends know. Sicheng and Kun and Taeyong have been so tight-lipped lately, but then again that’s been by Johnny’s design, in an attempt to honor what Ten had asked of him: to not ask of Ten at all. </p><p>Logically speaking, he shouldn’t be doing this, pulling his phone out and looking for Kun’s number with freezing hands and hitting call onscreen. </p><p>Kun answers in two rings, and Johnny asks, “Did you know?” </p><p>“Did I-- oh,” Kun replies. There’s a rustling in the background, and Kun whispering “It’s Johnny”, followed by Sicheng’s “What’s wrong?” </p><p>Johnny finds himself slumping over on the curbside, cold winter air blowing through the busy street as people rush in and out of stores and restaurants. </p><p>“How did you find out?” Kun asks quietly. </p><p>Johnny takes a breath, holds it, and exhales. </p><p>“I saw Ten at the department store just now,” Johnny replies. “With a tall guy. Handsome.” </p><p>Kun is quiet. </p><p>“So did you know?” Johnny asks, but he doesn’t quite know what answer he’s looking for. </p><p>“Yes, we knew,” Kun says plainly. Kun has never sugar-coated shit with Johnny, and it’s something Johnny’s constantly grateful for. </p><p>“Okay,” Johnny says. “Okay. Okay.” </p><p>His heart is racing, his mouth brimming with questions that he wants to ask, willing himself to not shake apart from this new knowledge. Something wretched takes its place inside his gut, green and black and sinister, this choking, putrid sting of jealousy and mistrust, like the last couple of months haven’t seen him rid himself of exactly these emotions. </p><p>“It’s very new,” Kun says quietly. “I don’t want you jumping to conclusions, Johnny. This isn’t one of those things.” </p><p>‘One of those things’, as if he’d even thought Ten capable of infidelity, but blind rage and a raw wound feel the same to Johnny in this moment. He feels like his arms don’t belong to him, like his entire body remains suspended in air as opposed to hunched over in the cold, his phone pressed to his ear. </p><p>“It’s only been a couple of weeks,” Kun continues, and Johnny hears something muffled, before there’s silence again. “They’re still starting out. Ten’s still getting a feel for it.” </p><p>“A feel for it?” Johnny asks, his voice flat. </p><p>“For dating someone without you in the picture,” Kun responds. </p><p>Johnny is quiet, breathing into his scarf as he feels the first sting of tears begins to prickle at his eyes. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Johnny says. “I’m sorry. I knew I wasn’t supposed to ask.” </p><p>Kun inhales, huffs out a breath, and says, “It was bound to happen. Don’t beat yourself up over this.” </p><p>“I won’t,” Johnny says, finally rising to his feet as he feels a slight drizzle begin to fall. Good thing he’s wearing the coat with the hood, otherwise he’d be fucked. “I won’t press anymore.” </p><p>“John,” Kun starts. “Don’t be angry with him, please?” </p><p>Johnny bites down on the inside of his cheek, and leans on the lamppost. </p><p>“I stopped being angry with him a long time ago,” Johnny replies. A pause.  “Thanks, Kun.” </p><p>“Are you okay?” Kun asks, and it’s such a loaded question. “Do you want to come over?” </p><p>“No, no,” Johnny replies. “Thank you. I’m okay.” </p><p>Johnny knows that Kun is skeptical, and that Sicheng is probably watching Kun with a worried frown right now. Kun only murmurs a small “Mhmm.”</p><p>“Don’t worry, the both of you,” Johnny says, finally starting to walk in the direction of home. “I’m okay. I’ll text you later. Thanks, Kun. Give Winwinnie my love.”</p><p>He ends the call before Kun can say anything else. </p><p>The walk home is slow and somber, but now that Johnny’s had some time to calm down, now that he’s allowed himself to clear his head, he can breathe easier. </p><p>So Ten is dating someone new. It’s not like he’s never seen Ten date anyone else, but this is different. That was before Johnny had known what it was like to love Ten in that manner, to be in love with Ten in that manner. That was before Johnny was ever forced out of the picture. </p><p>That has been the hardest part about all of this. The knowledge that more than anything, JohnnyandTen were no longer a package deal. He’d known all of Ten’s other boyfriends and girlfriends. Ten had made it a point for Johnny to be the Litmus test on which he could rely on. If Johnny liked who Ten was dating, then it was worth a shot. </p><p>In hindsight, Johnny realizes now just how dangerously codependent they were on each other. That was the underlying sort of sinister disease that had taken root in their relationship long before they realized how much damage it could deal. </p><p>He’d always been comfortable knowing that Ten would be around, and on some level, Ten had probably fallen into the same line of thinking. Johnny knows that the breakup wasn’t easy for either of them, and it was an entire journey trying to disentangle themselves from each other. </p><p>When they’d flown to Chicago for a summer, when he'd introduced Ten as his boyfriend as if his parents hadn't watched them grow up together, and taken a short trip out to New York for a weekend when Yangyang and Dejun had invited them out there, they’d watched Hedwig and the Angry Inch on Broadway. Johnny hadn’t known anything about the musical, just that Darren Criss was the lead role, and they’d gotten Orchestra seats for it for cheap. </p><p>He’d sat there as a screen had come down from the ceiling and a projection of a retelling of the origin of love was being shown.</p><p><em> “The last time I saw you we had just split in two. He was looking at me, I was looking at you </em> ,” Darren had sung. “ <em> You had a way so familiar I could not recognize, cause you had blood on your face, and I had blood in my eyes.” </em></p><p>Johnny had taken Ten’s hand then, while his other hand pressed a tissue to his own nose, the tears streaming of their own volition. </p><p><em> “But I swear by your expression that the pain down in your soul was the same as the one down in mine,” </em> Darren continued in his clear, crisp voice full of emotion. <em> “That's the pain that cuts a straight line down through the heart. We call it love.” </em></p><p>It had come to a point where they didn’t know where one ended and the other began, and while Johnny had always thought it was nice to feel like he and Ten completed each other, the fact of the matter was that they were two people who processed things differently, felt differently, and for all their similarities, for all their overlaps, Johnny had, along the way, forgotten that people weren’t supposed to complete you like this. </p><p>When Johnny steps into his apartment, the only light streaming in from the streetlamps outside making the living room glow a low yellow, he feels the weight of the evening crash down on him. </p><p>He opens up the app store, downloads Instagram back on his phone. Signs back in. Goes to Ten’s page. </p><p>It’s all art now. Art and flowers and a cat he’s named Louis. No tall, handsome man to be seen yet. </p><p>Johnny hazards scrolling back lower, heart shaking, scared to see what might lie there as he goes back in time and--</p><p>Still there. So many photos of Johnny and Ten laughing together, photos of Johnny that Ten had taken when Johnny wasn’t looking, photos of their hands, photos of food they shared. <em> JohnnyandTen. </em> Back when they were in love, and even further back, when all they’d ever been was the inseparable duo they’d always been. </p><p>The most recent photo of Johnny there was taken three weeks before Ten had moved out. It was Johnny sitting by their window, looking out, sunlight catching his eyes. Ten had captioned it ‘by the mighty hand of jove’. The same reference to Hedwig. </p><p>Johnny hunches over on his couch, feels his stomach fall and fall and fall, feels his bones sink into the seat, tears spilling out after weeks of having been able to keep it together.</p><p>It’s strange, mourning the loss of someone in an age where there’s this entire digital paper trail of who you used to be, what you once were with someone else. In his phone, in his hard drive, on Facebook, on Instagram, on Twitter-- his and Ten’s entire relationship immortalized in public conversations, in public declarations of love, before it all abruptly comes to an end. </p><p>The thing is he really isn’t mad anymore. He had been, for a long time, mostly at himself, sometimes at Ten. But this new knowledge is a reminder that there’s been a cosmic shift in his life, and that people come and go. </p><p>Some relationships are meant to last forever, surely. Some-- some are outgrown. Some sour too fast for you to be ready for the change. Some happen in passing, with no hurt, no scarring. Some just come to an end when they’re supposed to. </p><p>Johnny allows himself this moment to feel the hurt course through him once again, just for now, just for a little while longer. </p><p>Until now, some parts of him feel like they’d only ever been held up because Ten had been around to keep him whole, but in the time since they’d parted, Johnny has had to take things like putty to fill the missing pieces, grow them anew. Make the missing parts his own again. </p><p>It’s been a slow process, and knowing that Ten has moved on to the part where he can start seeing other people is just another stark reminder that Ten had had a chance to start moving on much sooner than Johnny had, and for a long while, Johnny had resented him for it, but it’s too late now to be playing the blame game. They’d long missed the cutoff for that. Ten had gotten on the train; Johnny had stubbornly stayed on the platform. </p><p>A slow exhale, before closing the app again and dropping his phone on his chest as he reclines on the sofa. He closes his eyes, and tries to freeze the moment when he’d seen Ten’s profile again, half his smile visible in the too-bright fluorescent of the department store. </p><p>It superimposes itself onto his memories of all the times he’d watched Ten as he worked quietly, either on his reports, or his art. All those quiet moments together just at home. All those loud ones, back when they’d been kids and all they knew was mischief. </p><p>The first time he’d had a cigarette and Ten had laughed at Johnny for choking on the smoke. </p><p>The night he’d asked Ten if he wanted to get a new place together. </p><p>The first time he’d brought Ten home with the title “boyfriend” like it had changed everything. </p><p>Watching Ten in the kitchen standing side by side with Johnny’s mother as she taught him how to make Johnny’s favorite cookies. </p><p>Johnny wishes that he’d thought about this more. That he’d been better at holding on to them, that he’d been more present, instead of floating through his relationship like it didn’t have to be nurtured constantly. </p><p>That was what love was about, wasn’t it? The constant decision to keep choosing to be around. </p><p>But that wouldn’t have been enough, in the end. It didn’t address all the other things that left the both of them unsettled. It didn’t address Ten’s discomfort at the loss of his own identity; it didn’t address the changes their relationship had gone through when the realities of differences in jobs and personalities started to make themselves known. </p><p>What it comes down to is that people change. People grow, and sometimes they grow apart. </p><p>A bitter pill to swallow. </p><p> </p><p>↩️↩️↩️</p><p> </p><p>The last time Johnny makes love to Ten is the night before he leaves. </p><p>It’s anguish, the way it feels, the way Ten’s tears spill over his cheeks as Johnny pushes into him and they’re both entwined in each other’s arms, a painful, painful eulogy to the end of all things.  </p><p>Johnny kisses him and tastes salt and sadness, and Ten is holding on to him like they’re both mourning each other’s ghosts. The pleasure is tinged with something that feels unwelcome, and Johnny can’t parse why they thought this would be a good idea.</p><p><em> Stay, </em> he thinks. <em> We can save this.  </em></p><p>Without saying anything, Ten’s kisses into his jaw tell him, <em> No, we can’t.  </em></p><p>Johnny hitches Ten’s legs up over his arms, folds Ten in half as Ten cries, and then cries out, his release approaching steadily as Johnny fucks into him, deep and steady, Ten’s heat enveloping him and making his thighs shake from the effort of torquing his hips into Ten. </p><p>Ten holds Johnny’s face in his hands, Johnny’s forehead pressed against Ten’s, the sweat from their hours together making the wet heat between them even more felt. </p><p>Johnny’s hand finds its way into Ten’s hair, and tips it back, making Ten look up at him, and Ten’s expression is radiant as his eyebrows knit together, as Johnny changes angles and hits Ten’s prostate over and over again, Ten’s mouth open, lips bitten red and raw. </p><p><em> I love you, I love you, I love you, </em> Johnny whispers into damp skin, and Ten’s hands leave his face to claw at Johnny’s back, long nails raking across tan skin, the scratches on fire from the sweat on his back. </p><p>“I love you,” Ten cries out, eyes shutting of their own volition as his body stills and Johnny takes Ten’s cock in his hand to stroke Ten to completion, his release spilling between them, shooting across Ten’s chest, across his chin, which Johnny leans down and licks up as his own orgasm follows, and he holds himself steady, cum spilling into Ten’s heat. </p><p>The silence that follows envelops them as their breathing steadies, and Johnny falls next to Ten. Johnny feels Ten’s hand take his, fingers sliding in between his own. Their eyes are fixed on the ceiling. </p><p>Their breathing slows. Ten’s hand is so warm in Johnny’s. </p><p><em> This is the last time, </em> Johnny thinks. </p><p>Ten moves in closer, and Johnny turns to his side, and they curve like two parentheses facing each other. Ten pillows his head on his arm, before reaching out to brush his fingers over Johnny’s swollen lips, over his nose. </p><p>“It wasn’t enough,” Ten says quietly. “Was it?” </p><p>A breath, and then another. </p><p>“No,” Johnny replies. “I guess not.” </p><p>Ten’s thumb brushes over Johnny’s bottom lip, pushing the soft of it before Johnny catches the digit between his teeth and bites down lightly, like he used to do. It makes Ten smile, before Johnny realizes that Ten is crying again. He tracks the movement of one that spills from Ten’s eye down over his nose bridge, down his cheek, onto his folded arm, before it disappears into the pillowcase. </p><p>Ten’s face swims out of focus as his own tears begin to obscure his vision. He blinks them away furiously. He has hours left to memorize Ten like this. Time ticks along while they lay suspended here, on the edge of a goodbye that neither of them really want, but so desperately need. </p><p>Time to be their own people. Find who they are when they aren’t the pair they’ve allowed themselves to grow into all these years. </p><p>“I’m going to miss you, I need you to know that,” Ten says. “Even if this whole thing has been painful and messy, I’m going to miss you.” </p><p>“I already miss you,” Johnny says. “I’m sorry for everything, Tennie. I’m sorry for my temper, and my inaction, and--”</p><p>“You’ve spent months saying sorry, baby,” Ten says softly. “That’s all forgiven. You know that.” </p><p>“I do, but--” </p><p>Ten kisses him, soft, chaste, tender. </p><p>“I’m sorry, too,” Ten says, after he pulls away. “I know we’ve lost track of what started all of this. I know it’s been difficult, but once we started to see the cracks, we just couldn’t stop, could we?”</p><p>Johnny swallows. </p><p>“Yeah,” Johnny replies. “Yeah, it was just downhill from there.” </p><p>Ten will leave in the morning, and there isn’t anything that he can do to stop it anymore. They’d had so many starts and stops, but it’s here now. The two of them, stowaways on a sinking ship, the water filling the hull. No amount of negotiation able to put a stopper to the influx. </p><p>Sleep begins to take them slowly. Ten’s eyes flutter closed before Johnny’s do, and Johnny watches him breathe in and out steadily, traces Ten’s features until he sears it into memory. A face he’s known since they were small, a face he’s watched change and morph into the beauty that Ten is today. </p><p>Darkness takes over after one more yawn. </p><p>He falls asleep with his arm draped over Ten’s waist. </p><p> </p><p>↪️↪️↪️</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Unknown +011 1234 5678</b>
</p><p>Happy new year, Johnny. I hope you’re well. - Ten</p><p> </p><p>Johnny stares at the iMessage as his mother putters around the kitchen, fussing about how they need to go back to Target in case Johnny’s forgotten anything before his flight the next day. </p><p>He sets his coffee mug down gently, his eyes going over the message again and again. Wonders how he’s supposed to respond.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Me</b>
</p><p>Happy new year, Ten. I hope you’re well, too. </p><p> </p><p>The response is immediate.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Unknown +011 1234 5678</b>
</p><p>I hope you don’t mind that I texted you. I know it’s been a long while. </p><p> </p><p>Full punctuations, proper spelling. Formal in a way they’ve never been. Inexplicably, Johnny’s heart is calm. His hands aren’t shaking. He’s just… glad. He’s glad. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Me</b>
</p><p>I’m happy to hear from you. I didn’t know you’d changed numbers. </p><p>
  <b>Unknown +011 1234 5678</b>
</p><p>My phone fell into the sea and fucking SK wouldn’t give me back my old number. Good thing you always told me to back my shit up. I was able to restore from my last back up after I got this new one. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny is surprised at the warmth that trickles through his neck, down his spine, and around his arms, as he reads Ten’s message, hears his voice in his head. His eyes go over “Good thing you always told me to back my shit up” thrice before he blinks and realizes that he has to reply. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Me</b>
</p><p>I learned that the hard way after that night in Itaewon, remember? </p><p>
  <b>Unknown +011 1234 5678</b>
</p><p>You cried for an hour over the photos and videos you didn’t get to save of the trip to Jeju. Of course I remember. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Me </b>
</p><p>Yeah so. Back up always. Religiously. Like a compulsion. </p><p>
  <b>Unknown +011 1234 5678</b>
</p><p>Thanks for the reminder, tech support. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny doesn’t know how he’s being so calm. He wonders what’s going through Ten’s head right now. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Unknown +011 1234 5678</b>
</p><p>In any case. Please tell Mama and Papa Suh I said happy new year. </p><p>
  <b>Unknown +011 1234 5678</b>
</p><p>If they don’t hate my guts. </p><p>
  <b>Unknown +011 1234 5678</b>
</p><p>Heh</p><p> </p><p>Johnny, for some reason, manages to relax his shoulders, despite not quite knowing what this is. He tries not to let his mind skip too far ahead. He’s been in Chicago for nearly four weeks, and in that time he’s had a chance to process not just the last time he’d seen Ten in Lotte, but the entirety of their time apart. </p><p>He thinks he’s starting to get back on the mend. It’s been months. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Me</b>
</p><p>Come on, my parents don’t hate you. Don’t say that. </p><p>
  <b>Unknown +011 1234 5678</b>
</p><p>One can never know. </p><p>
  <b>Unknown +011 1234 5678</b>
</p><p>Take care, Johnny. </p><p> </p><p>Johnny knows a dismissal when he sees one, but he figures Ten is cutting it short because it’s too nebulous, whatever this tentative truce is between them. </p><p>It’s a new year. Turning over new leaves, starting a new chapter, all those fucking metaphors for what an arbitrary thing time actually is. Johnny thinks he’s ready for new, ready to really get along with his life now that the hurt has ebbed. </p><p>Whatever happens next will happen, Johnny figures. Perhaps they will find their ways back to each other in a way that is new. Perhaps this cordial politeness is all he can expect of them. The date on his lock screen says 8:42 Wednesday, Jan 1. There are many days ahead still to find out where they go from here.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Me</b>
</p><p>Take care, Ten. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me at <a href="https://t.co/Nm5AvDvn2U">my carrd, made by the lovely Erin.</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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